Come. I've moved aside some selfishness to make a bit of room for You, here in my heart.
Come. Join us at the breakfast table. When I remember You, we'll crack open your Word and search for treasure. When I remember.
I remember until a fork clatters to a stop in front of me and then I forget. YOU DO NOT THROW SILVERWARE! SET THIS TABLE LIKE A LADY! I toss the fork back and it hits a water glass, and water and ice cubes spill out.
The silverware tosser bursts into tears and loud cries, and I hear the words of my heart voice, Your voice, "That's not My way." And it's not. I dry tears and mop water and fill the glass again.
Come, heart dweller. Sit with me on the sofa. Feel the press of a warm, wiggly little boy body. Listen to the story sounds and the giggles and the "Read Move Over Rover again, Mama."
Hear the interruption, "I can't find my spelling book."
And my irritation, "I am tired of looking for your school books! When you are done you need to put them away! I am not your maid!" Hear my voice soften. "I'm sorry, we'll look for the book together."
Come. Come into the bedroom in the late afternoon. Feel the thrashing little boy body . Feel the little heels kicking. Hear the screaming. "I'M NOT TIRED! I...DON'T... NEED...UH...NAP!" See me raise my hand to spank and then set it down gently on chubby legs and stroke and hum instead. Until a book hits me in the face, and then see my hand rise and flash down on a chubby bottom. See big fingers hold little ones until the crying subsides and eyelids close.
How can this be, this waffling that makes up my days?
You live in the recesses of my heart and speak softly, in whispers. Impossible whispers. Forgive seventy times seven. Covet not. Be joyful always. Love your neighbor as yourself. Come. You don't really expect me to obey these impossibilities. Do you?
Impossible, you say. This temper keeping, this love giving, this joyful living. That's why I'm here, for I am the author and overcomer of impossibilities.
And this is why "Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing yet had been done."~ C.S. Lewis ~
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